Monday, 12 November 2012

Freewheelin’ in S.E.A - Day 10: It was written

We’d agreed to meet for breakfast at 9.30am at Adam’s Bar in order to eat and devise a plan, but due to the service in Laos being more cheap bronze than silver by the time we’d all eaten it was gone 11 and the hours of sunlight were dwindling. I went to enquire about getting a boat for the afternoon, but time was looking a bit too late to organise. Then we thought about hiring bikes, but the girls were procrastinating, as girls often do, and by the end I just gave up and went off on my own to write whilst they stayed on the decking, painting their toenails and drinking.

"This is the spot where the flames get hot".
I walked through the quiet part of the village, which was all cabins and the odd empty restaurant, until I found a sweet spot that had no music, no customers, and a table facing the river with the sun shining down upon it. I asked if their wireless internet was working and the owner said no. I bought a big bottle of Beer Lao anyway and rolled myself a Marley. As I was smoking it a young girl approached me and asked if the internet was working yet. I checked and said no, then few minutes later, she came back and it was on. It turns out she’d gone and topped up the credit on my behalf, and even though I didn’t really need it, I was touched by the accommodating and thoughtful service. Bless her. After ten days and only a few little poems which I’d written on the go, this was my first time alone to really sit and crack on with my diary, and I took full advantage. I ended up sitting there facing the sun, spilling my memories onto the page for a good six hours. I had to order a pumpkin burger from them after my second joint and zero water intake had left me feeling light headed around about the time the sun set.

I watched the sun go and the moon arrived,
I went from hell to heaven, but I survived,
I saw a thousand soldiers slowly die,But we hold on to all spirits floating in the sky.
The energy came and the energy came,
the energy that leaves keeps everything the same.
‘No one ever really dies’ is something we all know,
every single soul still balances the status quo.
I live for everyone, I’ll never die, I swear,
you’ll be breathing in my presence when you inhale air,
it’s true, the thought of death should be nothing to fear,
and regardless of the distance, you are here.”

I left at 7pm with a few days of diary down, and a new poem, marching back to my room buzzing from my perfect afternoon. Unfortunately I couldn’t find my key, and the girls weren’t there. I swayed in the hammock and listened to the whole of The Doors’ ‘Strange Days’ album, spaced out from my hazy day in the sun. When it finished I went to knock for Ryan and Marie, who were just setting off for a spliff on the beach. I joined them, and we found the girls shortly after. Marie went to bed, and the five of us went to the Reggae Bar to buy a ‘happy’ shake, but all they had were ‘happy’ cookies. Still, they sounded pretty happy so we went for it. The girls went three ways on theirs, and I asked Ryan if he wanted to go halves, but he suggested that we have one each. In my quest for YES! I could hardly say no to that, of all things, so we each chowed down on a whole one, I rolled an LL Big J and by the time it had gone around I felt suitably stoned. The overly loud music was getting on my nerves, I’m sure neither our table, nor the one other table of four were really up for dancehall music too deafening to speak over, so we shot back to our hammocks to hang a while before bed. By 1am I knew I was in for some trouble as my mind went into overdrive, so I just shut my eyes and surfed into the slipstream, trying to force myself to sleep before my overdose of happiness fully took a hold of me. By 2am I was awoken by a sharp pain in my gut. I made my way towards the outdoor toilet fifty metres away, staggering into walls and falling over myself, then spent the next twenty minutes moaning and groaning on the throne, and trying to hold onto control of my mind and body, which I could feel slowly slipping away. I somehow ambled back to bed and passed out. Then at 5am I awoke again fully tripping and laid there in my hot box, staring at the ceiling and floating like a space cadet. One cookie was too much. They often are too happy too late. Another lesson learned, again.

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